A Lesson in the Unknown
by tinseltown
Summary: Hennessy longs for adventure. So when she visits Jane, her cousin, in London, she hopes for something exciting to happen-and she gets her wish. But when chaos hits Asgard so soon after Malekith's attack, it it somehow up to Hennessy-along with Jane, Thor, and a few other legendary Asgardians-to do something to save them all, all while uncovering a few shocking Asgardian secrets.
1. Chapter 1

_SPOILERS. Takes place a few months after the events of Thor 2. An OC is involved. I apologize for any mistakes I make regarding Norse mythology, or if I don't put enough mythology in. I've been reading up on it but I'm not as well-versed in it as I am with Greek and Egyptian mythology. I'll improve, hopefully! This is pretty much my first story ever, so thanks for reading! _

Hennessy jumped at the chance when it was offered to her. She'd never been _particularly _close to her cousin, Jane. They'd gotten along amicably at family gatherings, but Jane had always been very preoccupied with her studies and work and she rarely attended family events. Hennessy, likewise, had always been too immersed in her art (and her introversion) to particularly care about family gatherings. As a result, she and Jane got along because they were similar…when they even got the chance to meet each other, which was only once every two or three years.

But when her mother had asked her if she wanted to go visit Jane in England—after clearing it with Jane, of course—Hennessy had immediately said yes. Less because she wanted to hang out with Jane, more because she really wanted to go to Europe, and most because she wanted exciting things to happen to her, and she'd recently found out that Jane was at the center of a whole hurricane of Exciting Things.

Hennessy had found out that Jane was involved with Thor, the Norse demigod of thunder. Apparently Jane had first met him two years ago and he—and his brother, Loki—had caused some damage in New Mexico. However, the government had wanted to keep this all hush-hush, so word hadn't gotten out to the world about the fact that other worlds existed other than Earth, and Jane had been forbidden from speaking about Thor. And she might never have spoken about him…

Until New York. A mere year later, Loki managed to somehow get down to Earth and had immediately started causing destruction on Earth. Hennessy still remembered seeing turning on the TV and seeing every news channel focused on blurry images from shaky cameras, showing a figure with a horned helmet shouting something at a kneeling crowd at some event in Germany. And then Iron Man, the Hulk, Captain America, a few government agents, and Thor had banded together to stop Loki and had been unofficially dubbed "the Avengers: Earth's mightiest heroes." After that, the government couldn't possibly keep the fact that aliens existed a secret, so it was all-out chaos from there.

But _still _Jane didn't say a word to anyone. Hennessy had no idea her own cousin was linked to one of the Avengers until this past fall, when an enormous, flying black ship that looked like a huge dagger had crashed into a part of London and a fierce fight between Thor and some alien-looking creature had gone on, destroying many of the buildings nearby. Some students in a library right next door had filmed the first few minutes of the fight and they'd captured Jane on camera, standing right by Thor, clutching his arm.

And then it was all over from there. The world raced to guess who the mystery woman was. The government, of course, already knew. Most people couldn't figure it out—Jane was a pretty antisocial person—but Hennessy and her family and a few people who knew Jane well had figured it out. They refrained from telling anyone, for Jane's sake. It wasn't a _secret_, but Hennessy had a feeling Jane would rather not become world famous for being the girlfriend of a Norse god.

And ever since then, Hennessy had been plotting and planning. She'd gotten perfect grades and exhibited perfect behavior and had then purposely acted sort of sad and gloomy. When her mom asked her what was wrong, Hennessy would sigh and say, "Oh, it's nothing…" Upon being pressed for information, she'd simply look sad and say something about being restless and bored and that her art was losing its spark and how she wanted to travel to rekindle her art.

Which was all true. She _was_ bored and her art _was_ getting boring. But it wasn't the real truth.

Her mom had fallen for it, hook, line, and sinker. She'd called up Jane and asked if Hennessy could possibly stay with her. Hennessy was an independent girl and she could travel on her own; she wouldn't be any trouble to Jane. Jane really had no reason to say no and she liked Hennessy more than she liked some of her other cousins—who thought Jane was a bit of weirdo—so she'd agreed and Hennessy had started packing her bags in glee. She supposed to ought to have felt bad for deceiving her mom and Jane, but she didn't really care. She wasn't hurting anyone.

If only she'd known…

But now she'd been in England for three weeks and nothing had happened. England was, to her dismay, dismally boring. Oh, it had fantastic history and buildings to sketch and interesting street style—but it was cloudy and gray and people had a habit of giving her weird looks when she spoke in her American accent. She'd even been called a "Yank", and she still didn't know if she should be offended over it or not.

And Thor hadn't come.

Hennessy was disappointed. She'd hoped to meet the Thunderer. She'd been reading up on Norse mythology. She wanted to ask if Iron Man was as arrogant and hilarious as he seemed on TV. She wanted to ask him what Asgard—which was his home planet—was like. She wanted to paint Asgard.

And yet, nothing.

Hennessy was home alone. Jane rented a small flat with her assistant, Darcy, and her mentor, a man named Dr. Erik Selvig. Dr. Selvig was slightly insane, in Hennessy's opinion but it amused her. She also got along well with Darcy; they had the same sense of humor. That is, Hennessy got along with Darcy well when Darcy was _home_. Which she rarely was. No one was ever home.

The water from the faucet dripped agonizingly into the sink and Hennessy sighed and looked at Mickey Mouse watch. It was three p.m. Jane probably wouldn't be home till eight or nine. God knew what she did in her lab all day long. Studying science-y things. None of it made sense to Hennessy, who was a creative person in everything she did.

_Screw this_, decided Hennessy suddenly. She tied on her Converse, grabbed her black side satchel, dumped her things into it, and headed out the door. She had nowhere to go and nothing to do, but anything was better than staying at home and watching "the telly."

The sky was gray, as usual, and Hennessy couldn't help but miss the brilliant Chicago summers she had grown up with. This area of London was pretty densely populated and people hurried down the street, holding bags of shopping and generally not speaking to other people or exchanging eye contact. English people seemed averse to conversing with strangers. This drove Hennessy crazy, because she quite an open person. She could literally start a conversation with a lamppost.

She walked down the street to the best place within walking distance of Jane's flat: a small park and pond called Walker's Way (or something to that extent). It was actually quite a long walk with lots of twists and turns (London seemed built to be confusing) but Hennessy had stumbled across it during her first week here and had instantly taken delight with the quaint little pond with ducks and the green grass and pink primroses planted by the way. It seemed so quintessentially _British _(at least to her American heart) that she couldn't help but love it.

She sat down on the stone bench, pulled out her sketch pad, popped in her ear buds, and began sketching. First she sketched the whole scene in pencil, absentmindedly bobbing her head along with her music, and then she began to fill it in and blend with her chalk pastels. She was so immersed in her work—so intent on blending the blues of the pond perfectly—that she barely noticed that the daylight was fading fast and that the streetlights were going on and that the streets were clearing of people. This area was far enough from central London that people didn't generally stay out late at night, like they would in the heart of the city.

She only noticed that it had gotten late when it was too dark to finish coloring and when she realized her phone had ten missed calls. She checked it and her heart jumped in surprise. It was ten p.m. Had she _really _spent seven hours here, drawing?! She decided against calling Jane back—it would only take up more time—and decided to head home. She'd be home soon enough, so Jane wouldn't have to worry much longer.

The streets were narrow and dark and Hennessy didn't want to feel afraid—but she did. She couldn't help it. She was tough and she could fight if she needed to, but still, one heard stories all the time about the unfortunate things that happened to girls who wandered around alone at night. They didn't make her feel extremely confident, especially as this wasn't her home territory. Back in Chicago, she would have known a hundred stores and houses and shortcuts she could have used to get to safety, but here…?

She was alone.

_Please let nothing happen. Please let nothing happen. Please let nothing happen._

She was halfway home and had been thanking the heavens that nothing had happened when her worst nightmare came true: she heard footsteps behind her. Multiple footsteps. Multiple people. Her heart was pounding and was slowly climbing into her throat.

_Calm down, Hennessy. What if it's just some random person trying to get home like you?_

She didn't want to look behind her, the way that small children didn't want to look under their bed for monsters. If you didn't look, you couldn't see it, and it wasn't real. But Hennessy wasn't a child and this wasn't a monster under her bed—this was real life. So she slowly darted a glance behind her—

And her mind exploded with panic. Three guys, all looking in their early twenties, were casually (too casually, almost) walking about fifty paces behind her, their eyes fixed on her. They wore baggy clothes and had pale faces and they weren't talking with each other; their eyes were fixed on Hennessy.

"Hey, wait on a moment!" called one of the boys, walking a little faster. "We need to ask you a question!"

_Run, Hennessy. RUN! _her mind screamed at her and she turned and started running—

And promptly tripped over a loose shoelace, slamming to the ground to hard her palms and knees felt like they were on fire from scraping the ground. She tried to scramble back up to her feet, but the boys had just caught up with her by now. They hauled her to her feet, gripping her arms and shoulders _hard_.

"Let me go!" she shouted, trying furiously to kick, punch out at them, but they dodged her attempts easily, laughing silently to each other, and began to drag Hennessy around the corner.

_This isn't happening. Oh my god, no, this isn't happening, not to ME! _Hennessy could barely think, she was so panicked now, and she began screaming at the top of her lungs, shrieking, "LET ME GO! SOMEONE, HELP ME! PLEASE—"

"Shut up, you slag!" One of the boys punched her in the face and the force sent her sprawling to the ground, reeling with the shock of being hit for the first time in her life. Her ears were ringing from the blow and she tasted blood. Before she could get up, they had grabbed her again and dragged her upright. One clamped his sweaty hand over her mouth tightly and they began to frog march her down the narrow alley, heading for a gray, windowless door set in the alley. Hennessy's heart nearly exploded when she saw it and she knew: if she passed through those doors, she'd never be heard from again. Unimaginable things would happen to her.

She shook her head frantically and viciously bit down on the boy's hand. He let go with a howl of pain and she took advantage of their momentary shock by kicking out at the boy who was holding her. He also let go with a startled cry and she began sprinting down the alley. If she could _just make it out of the narrow alley to the street—_

WHAM. One of the boys tackled her from behind, hitting her and spitting violent curses at her, yanking her hair back and making her scream out in pain. "HELP ME!" he shouted to his friends and they helped him grab her legs and drag her back into the darkness of the alley.

Hennessy screamed as she had never screamed before, now too upset to form coherent words in her screams and shrieks—but they were dragging her further back and it was all over, wasn't it?—she was about to disappear—

And then it all happened to so quickly. She heard the rushing sound of a strong wind blowing past and something slammed into the wall behind her _hard_. The hands holding her legs let go and she immediately scrambled to her feet, staggering down the alley on shaky legs. Behind her, she heard frightened whimpers and groans and, despite her fear and pain, she turned to see what had stopped her attackers—and ended up freezing herself.

An enormous man stood there, gripping all three of the boys somehow in his enormously huge hands, wearing shining silver armor and a billowing scarlet cape, with shoulder length blonde locks, an enormous silver hammer hanging from his waist. The air seemed electric around him and he looked completely otherworldly. Hennessy knew who he was, of course she did—she had been studying pictures of him and drawing him for the past seven months. Still, she couldn't help but fall backwards against the wall, croaking out meaningless words and sounds, unable to speak. She was so in shock at this point that she didn't know if she'd be able to move her legs for the long walk back home.

He turned to see her, his blue eyes flashing, and then he suddenly _smiled_, and that was the strangest thing of all. "Hennessy, correct?" he said, sounding strangely cheerful. "Jane asked me to look for you. I'll take you home—as soon as I deal with these filthy scoundrels," he said, shaking the now-crying boys violently. "You dare to attack an innocent young woman? What kind of beasts were you raised as?"

And then Hennessy couldn't take it anymore and she blacked out, her vision fading as she slid down the wall and onto the ground.


	2. Chapter 2

When Hennessy woke up, she opened her eyes to see Jane, Darcy, some random dude, Dr. Selvig, and Thor staring down at her. Of course, this would be enough to make anyone panic, so it was only natural that she let out yet another scream that made everyone jump. She sat straight up, slamming a hand to her pounding heart, and gasped, "Sorry! Sorry, sorry! You startled me!"

"_We_ startled you?" asked Jane incredulously. "Excuse me, Hennessy, but you were the one who disappeared for hours and didn't call me back! You were the one Thor carried back bruised and bloody! I thought you'd died! I thought your mom was going to kill me!"

"Sorry," said Hennessy sheepishly.

"Where were you, anyway?" asked Jane.

"I was at that park," said Hennessy. "Sketching. I lost track of time." She looked down and realized she was wearing soft sweats. "Um…who…"

"I changed you," said Darcy loudly, unapologetically. "Nice purple undies, by the way!"

Hennessy had the sudden, strange urge to strangle Darcy violently. She hoped her face wasn't too red. It probably was, though; Hennessy blushed a lot, at the most inappropriate times, too.

"So Thor tells me you got attacked by a group of guys," said Jane.

"Animals," corrected Thor. "I would not call them real _men_."

"Okay, sure, whatever," said Jane. "The _point _is, I think we're going to need some boundaries here now, Hennessy. No more going out after dark. And I think I'm going to have to buy you some pepp…" Her voice trailed off as she noticed Hennessy kept sneaking looks at Thor, trying to act like she wasn't. Thor merely looked amused by the girl's blatant fascination.

"Hennessy, meet…Thor," Jane said politely. "Thor, meet my cousin, Hennessy."

Before Hennessy could say "Hey", Thor grabbed her hand and kissed it and said, "Pleasure", as if this was totally normal behavior for him. Which, Hennessy realized, it probably was.

"Oh boy," said Darcy. "We've got a regular Edward Cullen on our hands here."

"Vampires," muttered suddenly Dr. Selvig. "I'm sure they're around here somewhere."

An awkward silence fell around the room and Hennessy got up off the couch—and swayed and stumbled back and fell right back onto the couch. Her legs felt shaky, like Jell-O. "What the heck…?"

Jane half-rose, her expression concerned. "You've suffered a shock. You may experience some dizziness or disoriented feelings for a while."

Hennessy hated feeling weak, but Jane was right. It looked like her legs weren't going to cooperate with her, which was just stupid because they had _one job_—but whatever. She pulled a blanket around her while Jane fixed her with a beady look and said, "And what were you doing alone at the park anyway?"

"Oh come on, Jane," complained Hennessy. "Don't treat me like I'm a baby. I can go to the park alone."

"Apparently not," chimed in Darcy.

"Besides, I was _bored_," said Hennessy defensively. "I didn't come to England to—" She stopped talking with a _Whoops_ expression on her face (which was probably red again) and Jane looked triumphant.

"I knew it!" she said.

"Knew what?" Hennessy asked innocently, trying to play for time.

Jane put her hands on her hips. "Don't _even _with me, Hennessy. I may not be your best friend but I do know you. I've seen your drawings of Thor and Loki"—she grimaced at his name—"in your sketchbook."

Hennessy gasped, feeling completely violated. "You've gone through my sketchbook?" she asked half-angrily. She didn't mind showing her art…if someone _asked_. But picking up her sketchbook and going through it without permission? It was an invasion of her privacy and one Hennessy greatly resented. The last time someone had grabbed her sketchbook and flipped through it without permission, she had dumped a carton of milk on their head (and promptly gotten a week's worth of after-school detention).

Jane flushed guiltily while Darcy grinned, loving the cheesy drama. The boy (seriously, who _was_ he?) looked confused and Thor looked a little lost too.

"It doesn't matter!" said Jane, still red in the face. "The point is…" She took a deep breath. "I know why you came to visit me. And while it's a little hurtful…I understand."

Now Hennessy felt guilty; it had never occurred to her that Jane would realize what she was up to or that it would hurt her feelings. But… "Wait, what?" she asked, confused. "You understand?"

Jane smiled a semi-helpless smile and ran a hand through her caramel hair. "I—yes! Because…I probably would have done the same. We're too curious, you and I…"

"Okay, can we stop talking in code?" asked the boy. "I'm so confused. _What _is going on?"

Darcy rolled her eyes. "Come on, isn't it obvious? Hennessy here only came to England so she could meet Thunder Boy and run away on an adventure with him." She waggled her eyebrows suggestively at Hennessy and Hennessy gasped.

"I did not come to 'run away' with Thor!" she said, cursing her blushing face. "But…yeah, I was hoping to meet him," she admitted. "Who can blame me?" she added defensively. "I mean, come on! He's a freaking Norse god! Magic, excitement, adventure!"

"And death," added Darcy. Jane shot her a look.

Thor began to laugh, a booming sound that rumbled like…well, thunder. "Ah, I see," he said. "The lass wanted to meet me. Well, that was not such a difficult request. I could have easily come down to meet you. Why did you not just ask Jane?" he questioned Hennessy.

This was it. This was the moment. Hennessy looked shiftily at first Jane, then Thor, then back at Jane, and fisted her hands in her blanket, nervously fidgeting. Everyone stared at her expectantly and she bit her lip and looked down for a second, unsure of how to break it to them. And then Jane suddenly groaned. "Oh my god—I know what she wants. She wants to go to Asgard!"

"How did you know?" Hennessy demanded, truly shocked now.

"One: I'm a scientist," said Jane. "It wasn't that hard to deduce, knowing who you are. Two: you're an open book, Hennessy. And three: NO. No way. I'm sorry, but no. There is no way in hell that I'm letting you go to Asgard, so you can take that idea and throw it right out the door!"

The argument went on for a full day. Jane refused to listen to Hennessy that night and even though Hennessy fully intended to argue, she also still felt exhausted and pretty traumatized from her experience, so she had given up for the night and gone to sleep. She didn't know where everyone else went for the night. It could have easily been true that they all sat around her sofa, staring at her all night long, and Hennessy would never have known because _that _was how deeply she slept.

When she woke up the next day, everyone was in the flat. The sun was coming in through the window at a strange angle and was more golden than it should have been (though seeing bright sunlight in England was also somewhat strange), so Hennessy knew she had slept late. She got dressed and headed to the kitchen. Jane and Dr. Selvig were bent over some papers on the table—they looked like architectural designs for something shaped like a tube—and Thor sat at the table and watched them. Or, rather, he watched Jane. Jane would ever so often glance up, see Thor staring at her, and they would both smile hesitantly, Jane would blush a little, and then get back to work. _It's so cute_, mused Hennessy, _that I could throw up. _

Darcy, meanwhile, was watching the news with the same boy who Hennessy still had no idea was.

Hennessy poured herself a bowl of Sugar Puffs and sat down and said hello. Jane and Dr. Selvig murmured their hellos back, and Thor greeted her. Darcy yelled, "Yo!" over her shoulder and the boy gave her a hesitant, sort of lame half-wave that he abandoned halfway through. Hennessy hoped for his sake that he wasn't this awkward around Darcy, because Darcy would eat him alive.

"So," Hennessy said pleasantly. Jane slowly looked up. "About going to Asgard."

The argument started then and went on for a full day. Jane full-stop refused to let Hennessy go to Asgard. "I'm in charge of her!" she kept insisting in a shrill voice. "I can't let her go flying off to a different _realm_!" Darcy provided totally unhelpful ways Hennessy could sneak out of the flat to Asgard. Dr. Selvig would jump in occasionally with some random idea that wasn't of much help _or _relevance. Surprisingly, Thor was on Hennessy's side, though he tried not to directly oppose Jane.

"The child should see the splendors of my home!" he said. Hennessy somewhat resented being called a child, but she supposed that she was positively infantile to a Norse god who had existed for thousands of years. "You've seen it, Jane, have you not? How could you refuse her the sights of Asgard?"

"Yes, but—Thor, I'm an _adult_!" she said. "I make my own decisions, I'm responsible for my own safety! And besides, I _was_ almost killed in Asgard, remember?"

Thor frowned. "Jane, you know that was a time of war. Asgard has been at peace with the realms ever since Malekith was defeated. You yourself said so the last time you visited."

Jane looked helpless and exasperated now. Hennessy felt sort of bad for putting her in the position of bad guy—but not bad enough to stop arguing. "Jane, can I talk to you privately?" she asked. All day, she'd been arguing in front of everyone, listing safety reasons and independence reasons that she _could _go, but she realized she'd never talked to Jane alone.

Jane looked weary but she stood up and followed Hennessy into the tiny bedroom that was hers in the back. She closed the door and then crossed her arms defensively. "What?"

Hennessy looked at Jane for a minute, noticing how fragile her cousin looked, how thin and somewhat haunted. It occurred to her that all of the past two year's events had to have taken a major emotional and physical toll on Jane, but Jane had never once complained or let on that all was not well. She struck an imposing figure, petite and fragile yet still seeming strong and exuding an attitude of strength as she stared at Hennessy with crossed arms and warm brown eyes and caramel hair. Hennessy had to fight down the urge to quickly sketch her cousin and looked down. "Look, Jane," she began quietly. "I know you don't want me to go to Asgard. And I get it, okay? I really do. I may be only seventeen but I'm not an immature idiot. I know that you're responsible for my safety and that you have my mother's trust. But trust me when I say this: I am making this decision for myself, I'm taking responsibility for my own safety, and my mom knows I do this. She knows I live my life like this. If I got hurt and I told her it was my fault and not yours, she'd believe me. She knows I don't let people boss me around."

Hennessy sighed and looked at up at Jane. "Please let me go. You don't understand—or, actually, you _do_, because you're the only human that's left Earth. Come on, Jane, remember. Remember what it was like the first time you set food on Asgard. And now multiply that by a hundred because that's all I've _ever _wanted, for myself and my art. To escape. To see new things. To do things. I don't want to party like other kids. I want to do stuff, to see something legendary happen. And this is literally my _only _chance in life. I could get hit by a car tomorrow and die. People die all the time, and just by keeping me away from Asgard doesn't mean I'll be any safer. I can't just not do stuff just because there's risks involved!" She fixed Jane with a steady gaze and said, "Besides, do you _really _think we're not safe with Thor? I mean, come on, even _he _said the realms have been really safe lately, and _he'll _be with us. He saved me yesterday. And if he says it's okay for me to come… I mean, come on," she said, hating the note of pleading that had crept into her voice. "This is all I've ever wanted. You don't understand _how much _I want this…" She stopped, afraid that she'd start crying if she kept going. The thought of being so close to greatness and then not getting to see it—that would be truly unbearable.

Jane was looking at her curiously, her expression a mixture of sadness and resignation and exasperation—but mostly, the expression was that of empathy. Jane, too, had spent her whole life searching for things people said didn't exist. She, too, had fallen in love with the idea of the unknown. And she couldn't imagine what would have eventually happened to her mind if she'd met Thor—been introduced to the idea of the beyond—and then had him never return, ripping the idea from her.

Jane sighed and pressed her fingers to her temples. "I…am _so _going to regret this…but okay. Okay. I give in. You can go to Asgard. But only if I go with you."

"Excellent!" Darcy burst into the room.

Jane glared at her. "Darcy, were you listening in on our conversation?"

"Uhhh…I…what?" Darcy asked innocently.

Thor ambled in as well, suddenly making the tiny room seem a lot smaller due to his size. "Well?" he asked cheerily. "Is the conflict resolved?"

Jane gave him a half-smile. "Looks like…we're going back to Asgard. And Hennessy is coming with us."

"Excellent!" said Thor.

"That's what I said!" Darcy said, throwing up her hand for Thor to high-five it. He stared at it in confusion and she lowered it. "No? No? Nothing? Ah, okay, then."


	3. Chapter 3

As it turned out, Hennessy had no idea what to take to a whole different world. As soon as her legs started working again (which turned out to be the next day), she started packing. She packed her suitcase and then she unpacked it and then she packed it again and then she unpacked it. And then she ran out to the shops (with Darcy in tow; Jane refused to let her go out alone again) and bought various random things she thought she might need while Darcy chewed gum and tried to convince her to buy expensive things Hennessy wouldn't need (like a 100 dollar hair straightener…besides, Hennessy already had straight hair). Then she raced home and packed her suitcase again—and then unpacked it again. She couldn't figure out what she needed. How many clothes did she need? Did she need fancy clothes? She'd have to go shopping for those… She definitely needed her art supplies. And hygiene products were a necessity. What else? Did she need any food? What if Asgardian food didn't suit her? What about entertainment, for her down time? What about, what about, _what about?_

Thor had left that morning to go back to Asgard to do some of his princely duties, whatever those may have been. He promised Jane he'd be back in a week for her and Hennessy. "Right," joked Darcy when he said that. "You'll be back. We've heard that one before, big guy."

"Darcy!" gasped Jane.

"What?" Darcy demanded. "He kind of took a _year_ the last time he said he'd be back! And then when he came back he totally ignored you!"

"I was trying to stop my brother from destroying your planet," said Thor.

Darcy patted him on the arm. "Yeah, you keep telling yourself that."

Thor looked a little confused. Hennessy couldn't blame him. Darcy was really weird sometimes. But he had then said goodbye and left.

And then Hennessy had spent the whole week agonizing over what to take and what not to take. This wasn't just like going to a different country where she could pop to the local supermarket or bazaar to buy whatever necessity she needed; this was a whole new world, a different realm. For all she knew, rampaging T-Rexes terrorized the towns and she'd need a suit of armor as soon as she arrived. She highly doubted that, but her imagination had started to run a little wild.

So wild, in fact, that when Thor arrived back in England at the end of the week ("Ah, so he's learned to tell time," said Darcy), she had three bags. And one gallon of water. And an easel.

Jane had been staring at her luggage all day and had opened her mouth several times to say something—and had then shut it, looking amused and exasperated. Dr. Selvig had patted Hennessy on the head and told her to "Keep a wary eye out," which sounded vaguely formidable. And Darcy had laughed and said, "Are you going on a year-long expedition?"

Hennessy stared at her pile of belongings. Perhaps it was a little much…

"You cannot possibly take all that," said Thor, staring at her pile of luggage.

Darcy let out a peal of laughter and Hennessy felt defensive. She crossed her arms and stared at him, trying to hide her embarrassment behind a hard stare. "And why not?"

"Because it would not survive the journey," said Thor, looking amused. "I cannot carry both you and Jane _and _all your belongings."

"Hold up," said Hennessy, feeling confused. "_Carry_ us? I thought—I thought that guy was going to beam us up on a rainbow bridge—"

"Multiple people can travel through the Bifrost if they are accustomed to it," he explained. "You and Jane—you are not. Were you to travel alone, without me…there could be consequences."

"Like what?" asked Hennessy nervously.

"For one, you might get lost in space," said Thor.

"Oh," said Hennessy.

"That's why I have to hold on to both of you," he said. "And I cannot possibly carry all your possessions." He frowned slightly at the pile. "Why on Asgard are you bringing water with you? We have water on Asgard, I hope you realize that."

Hennessy was feeling extremely foolish now and Jane was smiling slightly, but not in a malicious way. "Um, will you give me some time to unpack and take just one bag?" she asked in a small voice.

"Take your time," Thor said generously.

Hennessy dragged her bags to her room and then dumped out one duffel bag and began to load it. She supposed taking undergarments, hygienic goods, and art supplies were the absolutely most important things she'd need. Food, entertainment, and…well, books about Norse goods would have to stay behind. She could probably just _ask _Thor any questions she had about mythology, even if her questions were embarrassing.

She finally left her room, duffel bag thrown over her shoulder, feeling nervous but excited. "Ready?" asked Thor.

"Yeah," said Hennessy.

Jane turned to Darcy. "You _sure _you don't want to come, Darcy?"

"Uh, yeah, pretty sure, Boss Lady," Darcy said, giving a sassy salute. "Thanks, but I sort of like staying alive. I'll stay on Earth with the boy toy."

Hennessy couldn't _possibly _understand why anyone would pass up a chance to go to Asgard—but then again, there were all types of people in the world. She said her goodbyes to everyone and then followed Jane and Thor outside onto the small little patio. Jane only had a small cross body. Hennessy supposed Jane knew the drill by heart now; she'd probably been to Asgard a few times since the last incident had happened. Thor grabbed Jane around the waist with one arm and grabbed Hennessy with the other, and she was so small that it was almost like he totally lifted her off the ground. Her feet barely skimmed the ground. Thor didn't really seem to notice her weight.

He looked up at the sky and quietly said, "Heimdall."

For a moment, nothing happened and Hennessy was confused—and then it happened all at once. A blinding, rushing light that seemed almost to _sparkle_ somewhat exploded all around her and Thor's grip around her tightened and wind and shrieking sounds whistled past her at such speeds that her eyes watered by the force and the blinding light around her—and she was aware very much that her feet weren't touching any sort of ground—and there was a faint sound that sounded like _Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee _echoing strangely in her ears—

And then all in a matter of seconds, it was over. She was suddenly standing on solid ground and she staggered away from Thor, her heart racing. And then she realized that she had just stopped saying, "…eeeeeeeee."

"That was _you_?" demanded Jane, fighting a smile. "Did you honestly say _whee _as we went up?!"

"I—I guess so," gasped Hennessy, staggering around in a circle, taking in the golden circular room with the domed roof and the golden dias upon which stood an enormously tall man with golden armor, dark skin and eyes that seemed blank and yet piercing all at once. He stepped forward towards her and Thor said, "Hennessy, meet Heimdall. Heimdall, this is Hennessy—a family member of Jane's. Heimdall can see everything and anything going on in the realms," Thor added for Hennessy's benefit, though she remembered that from reading up on Norse mythology.

"Wow," squeaked Hennessy.

"Pleasure," Heimdall said quietly, calmly, and Hennessy was amazed by his demeanor. It almost seemed more otherworldly than Thor, who had been a little more humanized and modernized due to his companionship with Jane.

"This is amazing," Hennessy said, looking around the room more.

Jane laughed then. "Oh, you think _this _is amazing? Wait till you see the rest of Asgard, Hennessy!"

"Show me," begged Hennessy.

Jane grabbed her hand and led her outside the domed room and Hennessy felt like she might actually combust with excitement and happiness—either that or throw herself off the vast, shimmering rainbow bridge that stretched out in front of her for what seemed like miles. The sky all around her was a pale blue with wispy white clouds and Hennessy couldn't imagine how this could be—did Asgard have an atmosphere, like Earth?—but she honestly didn't care at the moment. She slowly walked forward, her eyes slowly raking every inch: the blue sky, the sparkling rainbow bridge, the blue water below the bridge, the stone columns rising up on either side of the bridge, and the rising golden palace in the distance, tall buildings of the city rising up even further in the distance. Everything was new and beautiful and amazing and Hennessy didn't even realize she was crying until Jane curiously asked, "Are you okay?" and Hennessy only then felt the wetness on her face.

She wiped her tears away. "I'm fine," she said, but her eyes were stinging again. She had no idea why she was getting so _emotional_—but then, she did. This was everything she'd ever dreamed of.

"I must say, your reaction is quite flattering," said Thor, "if befitting. Asgard thanks you, Hennessy."

She had the strong urge to formally say, "And I it," back to him, but she bit her tongue and resisted the urge.

Thor offered to fly them to the palace due to the fact that the walk was long. Hennessy refused; she wanted to walk the whole bridge, to see it all. Jane, however, wanted to fly to the palace. Jane looked at her hesitantly. "I don't know, Hennessy—"

"Heimdall can see everything happening," reminded Hennessy. "I think he'd see if I were attacked."

"Oh, alright," sighed Jane.

"It is a long walk," warned Thor.

"That's fine," said Hennessy, already not paying attention to him. Funny how easy it was to ignore the God of Thunder when she had all of his realm at her disposal. Never in a million years would she have imagined, a few weeks ago, that she'd be blowing off the Thunderer—but here she was, waving him off. Thor took hold of Jane, began whirling Mjolnir, and then blasted off into the sky, towards the palace.

The walk _was_ long and the sky was darkening, fading slowly like brushstrokes on a silk painting canvas, melting into darker blues. But still Hennessy marveled. Lights went on in the palace and around the city as the neared it and she saw several Asgardians she passed—guards?—give her strange, curious looks. But no one approached her or said anything strange to her; probably because human presence on Asgard had become normal ever since Thor had become infatuated with Jane.

She finally reached the steps of the palace and climbed up them, feeling almost like Cinderella (minus every other aspect that made Cinderella…well, _Cinderella_). At the top of the stairs was an enormous entrance that seemed to span for miles, with alternating columns made out of gleaming gold and some type of white stone. Beyond that, she could see activity in the castle. Was this the entrance, this open air…enormous, columned _porch_?

Before she could step inside, two guards, enormously tall fellows, stepped in front of her, looking solemn. "Your business inside the palace?" one of them asked.

"I'm—" Her voice came out as a strangled, hoarse squeak and she cleared her throat, blushing. "I'm a…guest of Thor's." The guards frowned when she said Thor's name and it suddenly struck her that she was using his name in a very familiar fashion. Perhaps it wasn't appropriate? "Prince…Thor?" she added somewhat lamely.

The guards stared back at her, emotionless and somewhat cold, and she had the strangest sinking feeling that they didn't believe her. What would she do now? Thor would eventually find her, but would she have to sleep outside in the meanwhile? Cold marble (or whatever it was) didn't seem very comfortable—

"Ah, there you are! Hennessy!" Thor himself strode out from the palace, nodding to the guards to acknowledge that Hennessy was indeed one of his guests. "Come, a feast is being served in your honor. Jane is waiting."

"In _my _honor?" Hennessy gasped, following him into the palace.

Seeing her expression of absolute terror, he chuckled. "Fear not. We Asgardians will use most _any _excuse to throw a feast and have a drink—or a few. Your coming is yet another excuse."

"So no speeches?" she asked breathlessly, trying to keep pace with him _and _turn her head 360 degrees to take everything without tripping over her feet.

"No speeches," he promised.

He walked quickly—either that, or his strides were enormous compared to her legs—and she didn't get much time slowly observe the corridors and halls she passed through but she promised herself that she would come back as soon as possible to take in every inch. For now, she had to concentrate on making it through a feast with presumably hordes of Asgardian royals and guards and dignitaries. _Oh dear god. _

"Here we are," he announced, reaching a set of nine-foot-tall double doors carved with intricate carvings and patterns. He threw them open, striding in confidently, and Hennessy hurried in. At first, all she could see was blazes of golden lights and winks of golden cutlery and dishes gleaming in the fires that roared around the room. And then she took it in in broad sweeping strokes, like a paintbrush, layering the image into her mind: first the enormous roof with the fresco painted to the roof; the smell of roasting meat and smoke and something buttery sweet and hot; the sound of raucous laughter and clinking and clattering of cutlery and dishes; gleams of red and gold and green and black as Asgardians in armor and finery alike dined and ate; eyes and heads turning in her direction, some curious and some amused and apathetic, taking her in while she took _them _all in—

_This is it_, she realized, her heart swelling in a strange way, taking slow steps to the table where Jane sat, waving at her. _I'm actually here. I'm in Asgard. I'm at an Asgardian feast._

_ This is happening. _


	4. Chapter 4

When Hennessy would look back upon it later, she would feel as if her first evening in Asgard passed in a blur, a tilting whirl of heat and excitement and strange sights and sounds. She felt like one of the Pevensie children, out of place and in a different world. Hennessy had never traveled much, despite always wanting to have traveled. She'd never even gone outside of the U.S. before she'd gone to England. Going to other countries on _Earth_ would have been amazing for her, so one could only imagine what Asgard was doing to her.

She sat down at a table next to Jane and looked around, trying not to feel shy as Asgardian people stared at her. Her hands trembled slightly on her lap and Jane surreptitiously grabbed one of her hands and squeezed it, smiling slightly. Hennessy shot her a grateful look. She needed a hold on reality right now and Jane was her only link to her own world.

"Hennessy, meet my father, Odin, the Allfather," said Thor, gesturing to the man who sat at the head of the table—white haired with an eye patch and golden armor. "The King of Asgard. Father, this is Hennessy, a relative of Jane's."

Hennessy had never met royalty—or _any _kind of famous person—before. She had no idea what to do. Did she get up and curtsy? Bow? Cast her head down? Shake his hand? "Uh—" She froze and looked at Thor.

"You need not do anything," he said, letting her off the hook. "This is a simple introduction."

"Ah—hello then," said Hennessy, feeling foolish, almost afraid to look the Allfather in his eyes. "I'm Hennessy, Jane's cousin."

Odin did not smile but his severe expression softened _just _a bit. "Welcome to Asgard, Hennessy," he said. "How does Asgard suit you?"

Her breath caught in her throat as she stared around at the scene around her. "It's—it's amazing," she said earnestly. "It's the most beautiful place I've ever seen in my life. I've been controlling the urge to draw it since I got here," she added.

"You're an artist?" Thor asked, surprised.

"Uh, yes," said Hennessy, looking at Jane. "Jane didn't tell you?"

"I didn't really tell Thor much of _anything _about you," said Jane. "I didn't get a chance. The first time I told him about you was when I told him to go find you."

"And I saved you from those scoundrels," Thor mused. "It seems as if human men have no honor these days."

"Thanks for that, by the way," said Hennessy. "If you hadn't shown up… I would be dead in someone's basement."

Thor waved off her thanks but someone else leaned in: a beautiful woman with glinting eyes, long raven-black hair, and a posture that spoke of fierceness. "What is this I hear?" she asked, her voice slightly raspy. "Thor, behaving like a gentleman?"

Thor chuckled. "Ah, Sif, don't insult me that way. You know I am the _perfect_ gentleman!"

"Yes, all those swooning girls who have wept over you the past centuries think so too!" teased Sif—and then stopped suddenly when Thor's expression froze. Hennessy looked at Jane next to her, whose expression was cold and distant, and then looked back at Thor, who now looked as if he knew he was in trouble now. Sif looked apologetic and quietly said, "Forgive me, I did not mean any—"

"If you'll excuse me," said Jane tightly, standing up. "I need some cool air. It's kind of hot in here." Thor started to stand and she added, "_Alone_," in a voice so fierce that Hennessy almost shrank back in her seat with fear.

Thor watched her go and then sighed. "She's angry, isn't she?"

"This is my fault," said Sif. "I had forgotten that your"—she paused, delicately trying to find the right word—"past…_indiscretions _would be upsetting to your human."

Hennessy stared at her, feeling rather shocked. Her…_human_? The way Sif said it made it seem as if Jane were Thor's pet. Sif seemed genuine in her apology but as Hennessy carefully watched Sif apologize to Thor, she couldn't help but wonder if she really meant it or not. There was nothing about Sif that outright spoke of deception…but Hennessy just got a strange _feeling_ from her as Sif stared at Thor. Female intuition? Or was she just losing her mind?

And then it hit her, all of a sudden, who she was thinking up conspiracy theories about. "LADY SIF!" she gasped, her breath escaping her in a whoosh.

Sif, Thor, Odin, and a few Asgardians nearby all stared at her.

She blushed. "Sorry! It's just—I've been reading up on Norse mytho—" She paused, wondering whether they would take offense to being called _myths_. "I've been reading up on you," she corrected, "and…you're just so cool! I've loved drawing all forms of you!"

"Cool?" Sif asked, looking puzzled.

"It means splendid," explained Thor, having gotten semi-well acquainted with human slang after meeting Darcy several times. And even though he wasn't quite correct, Hennessy nodded anyway and Sif looked mollified and smiled slightly at the girl, who felt quite dazzled.

"Thor, you'd better go and appease Jane," said Odin. He didn't look particularly like he cared if Jane was angry but Hennessy supposed he had to raise Thor to be diplomatic.

Thor paused. "She wanted to be left alone. I have to respect her wishes."

"To an extent," said Hennessy, unable to keep herself from jumping in. "You need to respect her wishes and leave her alone. But she _is _a lady. If you don't go after her at all, she'll think you don't care about her feelings. You can't go too soon or too late. It has to be the perfect amount of time."

"Women," said Thor, sounding mystified. "More confusing than the nisse."

"Go, Thor," said Odin.

Thor got up and Hennessy watched him go, wondering how he'd appease Jane. Of course, Jane didn't really hold grudges. She was a very forgiving person, usually. Then again, she'd probably never dealt with watching a beautiful Norse goddess who'd known Thor for _forever _banter with him about Thor's past flings. Of which Hennessy was sure he'd had _many_. She'd read the folklore. She wasn't sure if it all of it was true (she frankly hoped some of it wasn't; the thought of Thor pretending to be a woman to get Mjolnir back seemed half-amusing and half-disturbing), but she had no doubt that Thor had had past flings. Darcy had confided in her that Thor had been sort of an arrogant, brazen jerk (without meaning to be one) when they'd all first met him. He'd ordered people around and acted super entitled. And sure, he had changed now…but he'd been alive for centuries and centuries. That was a _lot _of years of bad behavior, Hennessy was sure. She wasn't sure who was more out of their depth—Jane, for hoping to tame a Norse god, or Thor, for trying to deal with a woman as intense as Jane Foster.

She was so lost in her thoughts that it took her a few seconds to realize Lady Sif was snapping her fingers under her nose. "Child. Look up."

"Oh!" Hennessy snapped to attention. "Sorry. Lost in thought. My name is Hennessy," she added, in case Sif hadn't heard Thor introduce her to the Allfather.

"I believe you already know my name," Sif replied, looking amused. "Pleasure. These are my companions, Hogun"—she nodded to a solemn-looking man who had features that resembled human Eastern Asian features—"Fandral"—she inclined her head towards a handsome man with blonde hair and blonde facial hair, who grinned widely at Hennessy—"and Volstagg." She pointed to a simply _enormous _man next to Hennessy with a reddish-brown hair and a beard who was eating more quickly than Hennessy had ever seen anyone eat in her whole life. His plate was piled about a foot high with food and food was rolling off of the plate onto the table.

He finished chewing, wiped his mouth, and then clapped Hennessy on the back so hard she felt like her organs slammed into her front. "And how are you liking Asgard?" he asked jovially.

"It's amazing," Hennessy said, coughing from his powerful blow.

Sif noticed and, hiding a smile, said, "Volstagg, don't kill the girl. She's not used to your oafish movements."

"Oaf?" roared Volstagg. "Who dares to call me an oaf?"

"We _all _do, dear chap," said Fandral, rolling his eyes. "You are the absolute definition of oaf."

Volstagg looked like he _wanted_ to retort but his mouth was bulging with so much food he couldn't open it, so he settled for flicking a berry at Fandral's face and shrugging, clearly not offended in the slightest bit. Hennessy knew from Darcy's stories that Lady Sif and the Warriors Three were great comrades of Thor's, and from what she could see, they certainly looked like good friends. Hennessy had never had good friends herself—she'd always been too interested in her own art, despite being able to easily hold conversations with people—and she felt a slight pang for her loss now. If she'd realized that having friends was this amusing, she would have tried a long time ago. Maybe she'd make them when she went back home.

"You must let me show you the treasures of our beloved city, fair lady," said Fandral, grabbing Hennessy's hand and slowly bringing his lips to the it. She turned bright red and he dropped a mischievous wink. Sif rolled her eyes and from the corner of her eye, Hennessy saw Odin shake his head slightly, looking weary.

"Down, Fandral," came Thor's rumble-y voice from behind her. He approached the table, Jane nowhere in sight. "She's only a child," warned Thor jovially. "Besides, Jane would have my head if you did anything to her."

"Me?" Fandral said dramatically, slamming a gloved hand to his chest. "Thor! You offend me! I was merely being _polite _to the little lady!"

Hennessy was getting a little tired of being referred to a child and _little_. She knew she was hundreds of years younger than all of them, but they all looked youthful too. And she was smaller in size than all of them, but she was positive there had to be Asgardians her size. Girls her age. She vaguely wondered what Asgardian teenage girls were like. What even constituted as a teenager, anyway? A 500-year-old? Or was that still a baby? Did people look and act like toddlers for a hundred years? What a nightmare for mothers.

"Where's Jane?" she asked Thor, suddenly realized that Jane wasn't with him.

"She retired to ou—_her_ room," he said. "She was exhausted."

Hennessy had caught his little slip of the tongue, though she sort of wished she hadn't. She loved Jane but she didn't want to know anything about Jane's private life. And if Jane was staying with Thor…then where was _she _staying? She'd assumed she would be staying with Jane, but apparently not.

"Where am I staying?" she asked. "I'm sort of…tired too." Apparently all the shock and excitement had taken a toll on her and her mind was spinning, but in a woozy, tired sort of way. Plus, the heady, warm scent of the liquors and the warmth of the fires burning around the room made her sleepy. The smell of burned caramel tickled her nose, making her sneeze.

"You didn't even eat anything!" said Volstagg, sounding concerned, as if not eating was a fate worse than death. "Was the food not to your liking?"

"No, it looks great!" Hennessy said hastily. "I just… I'm not in the…" Everyone was staring at her and Hennessy suddenly wondered if it was offensive that she wasn't eating that was made "in her honor." "My stomach hurts," she said. They couldn't possibly take offense at that. "I think I'll be fine if I just sleep."

"Then get a good night's sleep," said Thor, "for tomorrow, you will see all of Asgard!" He motioned for a serving girl who was standing silently by the wall, straight-faced, and murmured something to her. The girl nodded and then came around to Hennessy and quietly said, "Follow me, my lady."

_So I'm a lady_ _now_, Hennessy thought in amusement as she followed the girl out of the dining hall. She wasn't anything _close _to nobility or high rank—but she supposed as one of Thor's guests or friends, the maids and servants would have to call her Lady.

The girl was silent as she let Hennessy down enormous corridors and up stairs that seemed medieval and yet modern and gilded all at the same time. They vaguely resembled some pictures Hennessy had seen of castles back on Earth, but there were strange, alien elements to them that made her think _Yup, we are DEFINITELY not in Kansas anymore, Toto… _

"So, what's your name?" she asked the girl, looking at her curiously. The girl wore a plain gray dress and had dark brown hair pulled into a low, sensible bun. Hennessy couldn't get a grasp on how old she was—she _looked _to be anywhere between the human equivalent of seventeen to twenty five…but who knew how old she was in Asgardian years?

"Ilva," the girl replied, not looking at Hennessy.

"I'm Hennessy," said Hennessy. "Nice to meet you."

Ilva didn't respond.

"So how long have you…worked in the palace?" asked Hennessy, determined to create some sort of conversation.

Ilva's lips pressed together tightly.

_Or…not_, thought Hennessy. _What's her problem anyway? Did I do something to her?_

"Here's your room, my lady," said Ilva, opening a door set in a smaller, side corridor. She ducked her head slightly in a mini-bow and then left, vanishing down the hallway. Hennessy stepped into her room and marveled at it, shutting the door. It wasn't enormous, but it was beautiful. Deep blue silk window hangings hung around the windows and lights glowed in hovering golden balls that floated and shivered near the ceilings like delicate balloons. Hennessy had no idea what they were. A thick carpet coated the dark stone floor and in the dim light, Hennessy could see some sort of shape or pattern on the carpet, but it was too dark to figure out what it was, even thought she knelt to her feet and tried.

She got up and dropped her bag on the ground near the bed. It was an enormous monster, taking up most of the room, extremely tall with dark wood four posters that reached the ceilings and thick deep blue and black and silver patterned blankets and pillows. An idea crossed her mind and grinning wickedly, she backed up to the door and then ran straight for her bed, letting out a loud whoop of joy as she leaped wildly for the bed, and—

Completely bounced off the bed and crashed into the opposing stone wall.

"_Ohhhh_," she groaned, rubbing her head and getting to her feet and rubbing her bruised backside, wincing. _I'm a total idiot_. Still rubbing her head, she turned to the window right next to her and peered outside. Seeing the sky, her heart jumped into her throat and she took a step back, suddenly shocked. During the day, Asgard had seemed to have a sky similar to Earth's—blue, with clouds—but at night, it had changed. It was not the dark blue of Earth's, sprinkled with pinpricks of stars millions of miles away. It was a _galaxy_, a swirled mixture of dark blue and purple and pink and sea green and light blue and glowing orange with soft spots of brilliant white light gleaming like pearls against a multicolored, swirled backdrop. It looked exactly like the pictures of space that Hennessy had seen all her life growing up, only it was _up close and personal _this time. She lunged for her bag and dug out her camera, frantically taking as many pictures as she could, trying to get different angles in. After leaving Asgard, she'd never be close to space ever again. This was her one chance.

Lowering her camera, she took a moment to look at the other surroundings as well. Her window seemed to look a courtyard—a _huge_ courtyard that seemed to span on for forever. At the other very far end, she could see the slight, dark silhouette of a tower that mirrored hers. The tower was all pitch black, no lights glowing in it like lights glowed and winked in other towers of the palace that rose up around her, around the courtyard, gleaming spires that didn't look golden at night.

She yawned and decided it was really time for bed. A washroom accompanied her room and after spending ten minutes figuring out how to pee into this…_hole _that somewhat resembled a toilet but was also very different, she washed up, changed into some sleep sweats, and went to pull her curtains shut.

Just before she yanked them shut, she saw a faint light from the corner of her eye. She turned and squinted out the window. At the dark tower at the other end of the courtyard, near the very top, a tiny green light glowed. She squinted and pressed her face against the glass, trying to get a better look—but then it was gone almost as quickly as it had appeared. She waited for a moment to see if it would come back, but it didn't, so she shrugged and pulled her curtains shut and clambered into the bed.

She'd assumed that going to sleep would be hard because of her racing mind—but she'd also underestimate just how _soft _Asgardian beds truly were…and soon, in a matter of minutes, she was out like a light.


	5. Chapter 5

_Note: Sorry for the delay, guys. It was the last few weeks of school and then finals and it was all so monstrous—but now I'm done! Yay. Also, to clarify something I feel needs to be said: This story DOES have a plot, but it may be slow to come, because I want to take my time building this world (from Hennessy's eyes, anyway). It may in fact be several plots that begin and end, because I really want this to be a full experience for her. _

Hennessy slept like a log. She'd never liked that expression because she'd never slept like one before. She'd always been a light sleeper, prone to waking up at the lightest of movements and touches. So she'd never understood how anyone could sleep like a _log_. But after her first night in Asgard, she got over her annoyance at the phrase, because she slept so deeply that it was almost like she was dead. It was probably because, for all her longing to travel and do exciting things, Hennessy had led a very sheltered life. She'd never really traveled out of the U.S. and she'd never actually had anything exciting or different happen to her. Even within her family, her parents were happily married and she had no siblings and she'd had a normal childhood. Nothing about her life was extraordinary. So coming to Asgard must have had a real shock on her internal systems and she slept with no dreams. She almost always had vivid dreams and nightmares, but this sleep was different. It was like she had sunk past even the darkest of black and was floating, cocooned in a cashmere cloud of endless darkness. It felt so comfortable and perfect that even when she opened her eyes the next morning, she closed them and fell right back asleep.

She was only awoken when someone hammered loudly at her door, shouting, "Hennessy, wake up!"

Her eyes flew open and she sat up abruptly with a yell, her heart pounding, eyes darting frantically around the room. "Wh-What—?"

"It's me, Jane," called Jane through the door. "It's like—well, call it our equivalent of twelve o'clock. I thought you wanted to see Asgard, not sleep in."

"Blame the bed, not me," grumbled Hennessy, but she called back, "Okay! I'm getting up now," and swung out of bed to throw open the dark blue curtains. Brilliant golden light flooded the room and squinting past it, she could see blue skies once again. The courtyard was circular, she now noticed, and was lush with green grass. The occasional servant or staff walked across it, holding various objects, in the midst of their daily chores. She looked at the tower that had had the green light but it was dark and nothing flashed.

She bathed, wasting unnecessary water and time and making a slippery mess of her bathroom floor (she hoped they had room service here, because she was _not _accustomed to taking baths; it had been all showers, all the time, back on Earth, and she had no idea how to use these Asgardian bathroom objects)—but eventually getting clean and getting dry and slipping on a pair of jeans and a striped t-shirt. However, when she exited the room, she stopped in her tracks when she saw a dress laid out on her bed.

It was dark emerald green, made out of a soft material that felt like jersey when she touched it, a satin emerald sash around the waist. A pure white cloak lay on the bed next to it. They were gorgeous but Hennessy couldn't help but feel a little freaked out that someone had entered her room while she bathed. Didn't these rooms have locks? Could the servants and maids get past the locks? So much for wanting room service…

She dressed in the new clothes in the bathroom and then observed herself in a full-length mirror in the room. The dress hung to the floor and had quarter-length sleeves and a square neckline. The satin sash cinched neatly at the waist. It was a neat, comfortable dress that still managed to look elegant. She pulled on the cloak and tied it at her throat, arranging it as how she had seen people in the court wearing them last night at dinner. Shrugging her shoulders and deciding to go with the classy look, she slipped on black velvet ballet flats she had brought and slid a thin black headband onto her head, pushing her long hair back and away from her face. Her hands weren't stained with paint or ink and she looked more presentable and neat than she had looked in a long time.

Shrugging, she left the room then, kicking her bag under the bed so no one would snoop through it while she was away. Who knew if the maids here were trustworthy?

Once outside, she could see that the palace was much more active than it had seemed last night. Members of the court, nobility, and Asgardian guards and warriors alike walked down the corridors, to their own devices. Maids and servants were also around, but they kept to the walls and the shadows so not to bring unwanted attention upon themselves. Jane was nowhere in sight. Hennessy wanted to find her, truly she did—but first things first: food. She hadn't had dinner last night _or _breakfast this morning and her stomach was growling.

"Excuse me," she said, approaching a trio of ladies who were wearing gowns that looked luxurious. "Can you tell me how to get to the"—she hesitated, thinking—"dining hall? Or wherever they serve breakfast?"

"Oh, is _this _the human Thor brought back, then?" one of the ladies murmured. "_This _is the woman he's infatuated with? Not much of pretty face, I must say."

Hennessy gasped. "Excuse me! _I'm _not—I'm not the one Thor is 'infatuated with'! That's my cousin, Jane. And she _is_ a pretty face," she added defensively. Jane was so, so much more than just a pretty face—she was a brilliant scientist who had relentless dreams and pursuits and a good heart—but she couldn't let these women insult Jane for no reason. Even though they'd actually insulted _her_, but Hennessy had no idea how to say, "I'm not ugly! I'm pretty cute, thanks!" without seeming vain.

She turned on her heel and marched away, nose in the air. Were all Asgardians going to be this elitist? She hoped not.

Luckily, the next person she talked to—a guard wearing armor—wasn't such a jerk and they let her know that a guest of her stature would be eating with the royal family and the nobility in the main dining room, not the rather plain room that had held the wild party from last night. He pointed her in the right direction and she left.

After several wrong turns (one which led to a room that held a lot of dead creatures in glass cases; she backed quickly out of that one), she finally managed to find the main dining room and pushed open the tall double doors to see a grand room with a long deep red carpet and dark golden floors and golden columns and a cream-colored stone ceiling with banners hanging from the wall opposite the doors. A long mahogany table with high-backed ornately-curved chairs stood on the red carpet and tall floor-to-ceiling windows lined either side of the room, letting in tons of natural light.

And only Jane, Thor, and Odin sat at the table.

"Hello," she said, hurrying up. "Sorry I'm late!" Jane and Thor said their hellos and Odin nodded diplomatically. Hennessy wondered if the man ever spoke.

"Did you sleep well?" asked Thor.

"Incredibly," she said. "I'm going to have find out what Asgardian mattresses are made of. I could make a killing back home."

"You're going to kill mattresses?" Thor asked.

"It means…make a lot of money and success," interjected Jane, who—upon closer inspection—looked much less icy than she had last night. She too wore a dress, though hers was a deep plum color.

"They are made out of the feathers of the gigantic croaking bird," said Thor.

"The _what_?" Hennessy demanded, taking a seat.

"NO!" The words exploded out of Odin's mouth and he half-stood, looking fierce, as Hennessy froze, having been about to lower herself into the seat between Jane's place and Odin's place at the head of the table.

She backed up, feeling frightened, as if she had been electrocuted. "Wait, what happened?" she asked.

"Forgive me," said Odin slowly, lowering himself back into his chair. "I lost myself for a moment…"

"That was my mother's spot," said Thor quietly.

"Oh." Hennessy didn't know what to say. She'd read about Frigga (_one _of Odin's wives, according to certain legends, but Thor acted like she had been the only one, so who knew?) in the stories, of course, but she'd never met her or seen a picture of what she had really looked like. She didn't really even know what had happened to her; all she knew from the garbled version Darcy had told her was that she had been murdered the first time Jane had come to Asgard and had dealt with the war and all that crazy messy stuff.

"I'm sorry," she said, hurrying to the chair on Jane's other side, hoping her cheeks weren't burning—but no luck. "I didn't realize. I didn't mean to be offensive."

"It is—fine," said Thor, forcing a friendly smile. "No harm done."

Lunch was a strange affair. The food, for one thing, was incredibly different. There was bread and stews and meat and platters of vegetables. Some things Hennessy was able to recognize—like the apples mixed into some sort of savory pie—but some things, like the golden flatbread she bit into that golden, molten liquid oozed out of, tasting salty but also sort of caramel-y, she'd never seen before. It was all delicious (though she stayed away from the meat; she had a real aversion to red meat and the whole pheasant was probably full of red meat). But more than the delicious food, it was…awkward. Thor and Jane didn't really make conversation and Odin was silent and looked as stoic as ever. They all ate and Hennessy couldn't help but notice the stifling feel in the room, the smothering feeling, the invisible elephant in the room: there were supposed to be others here…but they weren't. Frigga, most obviously, was gone and Thor and Odin were still feeling her loss. But—and Hennessy realized this with a jolt—someone else was missing: Thor's brother, Loki.

Hennessy didn't really know much about Loki. When he'd first tried to destroy New York City and take over the world, not everyone had known it was _he_, Loki, the Norse god of mischief, magic, and mayhem. Maybe some Norse mythology nerds had spotted his helmet with the antlers when he was shown onscreen and had exploded with excitement—but most people had no idea. Most people had to be told, "Oh, yeah, that was Loki. Loki—you've never heard of him? Apparently, he's Thor's brother—real crazy dude. Look up the legends!"

Hennessy had looked Loki up as soon as she'd figured out who he and Thor were, and even more when she figured out Jane was somehow connected to them both. Loki was everything and anything in the legends. He'd been portrayed in so many different ways and drawn in so many different forms that she had trouble nailing down the idea of who he was—especially when she looked up the blurry photos taken of some pale man with green armor flying around New York City or shouting at a crowd in Germany. Those were virtually the only photos of him that could be found on the Internet. And she never understood how being the god of mischief and mayhem led to the desire of trying to take over and destroy a whole planet. Talk about _Well, that escalated quickly _indeed.

But when she went to visit Jane, Darcy had told her (along with telling her everything else Jane had told Darcy) why. And in Darcy's extremely eloquent words: "So the dude is, like, adopted, right? But he didn't _know _he was adopted and then he found out and he found out his real parents are these frost monster giants or something. Whatever. So he was pissed off and he wanted to get back at Thor—don't ask me why, I mean shouldn't he have tried to get back at his parents? It's not like his brother was the one who adopted him—and so he basically threw a hissy fit and tried to destroy Earth 'cause Thor loves us. But 'cause Thor loves us, Loki was caught before he could kill us all. Cool, right? And then after that, he tried to help Thor and Jane get that radioactive spaghetti out of her and he died trying to save Thor's life, so I guess the dude wasn't so bad after all." She'd paused then and thought for a moment. "Actually, he was kind of cute. He had that bad boy thing going on. Minus the whole genocide thing, you know?"

"Yes," Hennessy had said, torn between wanting to laugh and wanting to hide her face in her hands. "I know."

So that was the whole story. And Hennessy wasn't sure how to feel about him. On one hand, she felt extreme disgust towards the person who'd tried to destroy her home planet all because of _his _hurt feelings. Talk about insane and childish. What kind of monster condemned a whole planet of innocent people just because he had issues? But on the other hand, she couldn't help but wonder how much anger and hurt someone had to have to even try to do that. And then he _had _helped Jane and Thor and died for it… He intrigued her. Too bad he was dead. She would have liked to ask him some questions (provided he didn't kill her on the spot or something, of course).

But whatever his faults may have been—he had been Thor's brother and Odin's son for centuries. It had only been about a year—less, even—since he and Frigga had died. It might take _centuries _before Thor and Odin were able to get over the death of half their family. Hennessy's cousin, who she'd been close to when she was a child, had died in a car crash when Hennessy had been twelve and Hennessy still wasn't over it sometimes. She couldn't imagine how having perhaps thousands of years of memories to live with.

As soon as lunch was over, Thor announced, "So what say you to having a tour about the palace, Hennessy?"

Hennessy perked up and so did Jane. Hennessy suspected Jane would be thankful to escape this awkward meal. She wondered how many awkward meals Jane had endured over the past year, every time she'd visited. "Let's do it!" she said.

"And what do you intend to show her, Thor?" asked Odin.

"Anything she likes," said Thor.

"Remember that my apartments are off limits," warned Odin.

"Of course, Father," said Thor.

"Alright then." Odin got to his feet. "Have a nice day then. I'll be off. I have some business to attend to. Those damned draugar are causing problems for the burial grounds keepers again…"

"Draugar?" Hennessy whispered, capturing Thor's eye.

"You don't want to know," he grimaced.

Now Hennessy really wanted to know.

They left the dining hall and Thor then began to show Hennessy around the palace. The tour took most of the afternoon and Thor didn't even seem tired and annoyed. He probably had more energy than the average mortal human, being somewhat immortal. Jane followed along, occasionally adding a quip as Thor explained and pointed out the stables, the dungeons, the library, the ball rooms, the dining halls, the kitchens, the training grounds, the armories, the apothecary, the healing area, the studies, the silverware rooms, the magic rooms, and everything else. Hennessy was constantly struck at the difference between medieval and modern and that _slight _touch of…other that she couldn't recognize. Obviously. Because all of her knowledge about architecture and art and color was built from Earth. Even things she'd never seen on Earth, they would have made sense in her mind because they would have followed the laws of physics and the rules that the world built in her since birth, the innate facts everyone understood. But here, on Asgard, a few minor things kept throwing her off. She saw a few items made out of a metal that looked like a fusion of gold and royal purple and she didn't understand how it could appear _both _purple and gold—but it did. And she had no idea how she'd draw it.

Finally, in the evening, Thor's exhausting tour was done. He didn't seem winded at all and had cheerfully greeted people he had passed all day long but Hennessy's legs ached and mind spun. She needed some time to rest and come to grasp with all this. Jane, seeing this, touched Thor's massive forearm and said, "I think we're done for today. She's tired."

"Already?" asked Thor.

"We're not all Norse gods," Hennessy retorted and he laughed. _Did he _ever_ take offense at anything_? she wondered. "I need to get back to my room," she added, "but I have no idea where it is…"

"Here, wait." Thor beckoned over another maid—a young girl with pale skin and copper curls and amber eyes (_She's so pretty_, Hennessy thought ruefully). "Show Lady Hennessy back to her room," he told the maid. "Dinner will be at first dark," he added to Hennessy. "The days are long, so you still have some time."

"Thanks," said Hennessy. She waved goodbye and allowed the maid—also silent—back to her room. She didn't try to make conversation this time but she wondered if _every _maid and manservant in the palace knew where her room was?

The girl bowed her head at the entrance of Hennessy's room and then turned back around, vanishing around the corner. Hennessy entered and wasted no time in grabbing her bag of supplies. Thor's tour had been great and stunning but he moved at fast speeds and gave brief overviews of everything. And he had spent far too long waxing poetic about the beauty of the training fields and armory. Hennessy wasn't a fighter—she was an artist. And she wanted to be quiet. She wanted to be sneaky. She wanted to discover the tiny intricacies of the palace that Thor perhaps hadn't even noticed in his thousands of years. He didn't _seem _like the type to closely examine a doorknob to see what was on it.

Before she left, however, she examined her rug. She hadn't gotten a chance to look at it before, in the dark. It showed a round orb emanating with what looked like golden rays. Curled around the golden orb was a…snake. An enormous, deep blue snake with its jaws open, enormous fangs piercing the globe. The rest of the rug was black and dotted with white and gold and blue threads to resemble—

_The stars_, she realized in shock. _It's…the universe. That orb is a planet…and there's a giant snake curling around the planet… Didn't I read something about a giant snake? _She paused for a moment, thinking—and then she shrugged and gave up, heading out the door. It was of no concern to her anyway, simply being a _rug_.

Behind her, in the window, a tiny green light winked in the far opposite tower for one second.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

It was in the next two hours that Hennessy re-considered her life. She had always taken it for granted that she'd be an artist when she grew up and would major in art. But she was having so much fun sneaking around and tip-toeing and being unnecessarily dramatic peeking into rooms that she considered becoming a spy or a ninja when she grew up. She could have, of course, walked like a normal person and knocked and opened doors boldly—but Hennessy could be mischievous and quite silly when she got into the mood for it, and Asgard made her so giddy that she felt like being _weird_.

And it turned out the palace had a _lot _of doors and corridors and rooms. She'd entered plenty of empty rooms but then she'd entered one where she could see _three _pairs of legs and _a tail _sticking out of a bed. "Get out!" someone had shrieked and she'd slammed the door shut, her face burning red. After that, she knocked quietly before entering a room. She didn't want to be known as a bad guest or That Impudent Midgardian Girl Who Barged Into Rooms Unannounced. And some doors had simply been locked, so she couldn't enter those.

She descended a flight of stairs at one point and pushed through a pair of swinging double doors—to entire a simply enormous kitchen. It was bustling with sweaty and red-faced chefs who were bellowing orders at terrified maids and manservants, who scurried around wood-topped counters and tables, weaving deftly around Hennessy, carrying platters and trays of smoked meats and picked vegetables and steaming pies. Several brick-oven type of open fires roared in fireplaces around the kitchen and sweaty, soot-covered chefs stuck in and pulled out loafs of bread, whole fowl with their fat sizzling off of them on skewers, pies and other baked goods. The smell of the whole place was intoxicating and Hennessy drifted forward, led by her nose, almost in a dreamlike state—

Until someone roughly grabbed her upper arm and yanked her around. "GIRL!" A red-faced woman was shouting in her face and it took Hennessy a few seconds to even realize what was being shouted at her. "Who are you, then? You the new peeler I asked for?"

"N-No," stammered Hennessy. "I'm…I'm Lady Hennessy."

"Lady _who_?" demanded the woman.

Another chef caught the first woman's arm and said in a low voice, "Lady Jane's cousin. She's here visiting from Midgard, ain't she?"

The red-faced women immediately let go of Hennessy's arm as though she'd been burned and said gruffly, "My apologies, Lady. But this isn't the best place for a lady to be. You could get hurt." And before Hennessy could protest, she grabbed Hennessy forcefully by the shoulders and steered her to the doors. Hennessy took one mental snapshot of the kitchens before she was thrust out into the corridor. She sat on the floor against the opposite wall and took five frantic minutes sketching what she had seen in pencil quickly, before she could forget it. If she could get the basics down, she'd be able to fill it in from her own memory and imagination later.

The library, when she finally stumbled into it, nearly brought her to tears. It reminded her of pictures she'd seen online of libraries in grand old universities and old castles, except this one was gleaming and not dusty and forgotten. It was quiet and peaceful, yes, but there were still a fair number of people. A man with half-rimmed glasses and a glossy black feather quill sat behind a high table at the head of the room, intent on a book he was slowly turning the pages of. Young men sat at tables, foreheads bent over books, or perused the aisles, staggering past her with enormous stacks of heavy-looking leather-bound books. They all seemed relatively young and their expressions of desperation and despair reminded Hennessy of the expressions of students back on Earth. These were probably students of some sort of craft.

She slowly turned in a circle to take in the deep maroon carpeting, the ceiling that seemed miles away, the mahogany bookshelves that stretched dozens of feet in the air. The ceiling was painted black and had constellations painted onto it and golden models of stars, solar systems, and strange birds hung from thin golden chains attached on the ceiling. On the right side of the library, stained glass windows lined the upper part of the wall, throwing dazzling rainbow geometric shapes across part of the room. The same glowing golden orbs of light hovered and bounced halfway up to the ceiling, floating partially but staying in mostly one spot. Hennessy wondered what kept them in place. Was it some sort of magnetic pull to some type of base?

She spent most of her time in the library but eventually she decided it was time to go see some more things. She stepped outside and immediately noticed that the corridors were mostly empty. One glance out at a huge glass window revealed a brilliantly purple Asgardian sky that was slowly fading into a deep blue, the golden star that served as their sun—or was it still the same sun? Hennessy didn't know—setting in the distance. Taking a moment to overlook the shadow silhouette of the palace rising up around them, she couldn't help but marvel at the town that gleamed with golden lights and roads in the distance, stretching as far as the eye could see. Asgard was truly amazing.

She turned down a narrow corridor that had lower ceilings and no lights. Glancing back at the brightly-lit corridor behind her, she started down the dark passageway. She knew the rules (anyone who's ever seen a horror movie knows the rules): Don't go down dark corridors alone. Probably not the best idea. But honestly, what could hurt her here?

Thankfully, the corridor did not reach too far. She could still see faint golden lights from the main corridor, though it _was_ far enough for her to be shrouded in darkness here. And there was…nothing. She frowned and looked at all three walls around her. No door. No stairs. Nothing—except a dull painting. Leaning in close, she saw that it was a rather atrocious painting of a _frog _wearing a white curly wig and royal finery. Squinting, she touched the dingy painting, wondering who in the world thought that it had been a good idea to paint this. She ran her fingers lightly over the painting, pressing hard to see if the canvas was mounted on something. Directly on the frog's head, her fingers lightly pressed down—but she felt something click down and then she heard the faintest sound of a hatch opening and the painting swung open half an inch.

"Whoa," she muttered. She pulled the painting open slowly to reveal a set of dark, slimy-looking steep stone steps that spiraled up into darkness.

Hennessy hesitated now. Going down a dark corridor had been one thing—she could still see the main corridor, could still scream for help if she needed to—but ascending up a pair of dark steps was another. Who knew where they led? Who knew what waiting for her at the top? What if the painting locked behind her? It would be just her luck to die of starvation in a secret Asgardian passageway, never able to see Asgard _or _Earth again.

But she wanted to go. It was unbelievably creepy but her curiosity was stronger than her desire to back away. She squared her shoulders, adjusted her satchel, and clambered up onto the stairs. She had to crouch slightly, since the height was quite small, even for her 5'6" height, and she pulled the painting _almost _closed behind her, leaving half an inch. Then she slowly went up the steps, taking care to move slowly to avoid slipping, falling backwards, or making too much noise.

_Why is this even here? _she wondered as she climbed, a stitch in her side growing. The stairs seemed to go on forever—or maybe that's how it felt since they were about a foot tall each and she had to struggle to climb them without rails. She didn't want to touch the walls either; they looked kind of disgusting. _I know castles had secret passageways for people to escape safely if the castle were under attack…but this isn't going to help anyone escape…_

Finally, she saw a door appear—first at her eye-level, as she ascended, and then more and more of it as she climbed higher. She was about to breathe a sigh of relief when she suddenly heard low voices and froze suddenly, almost toppling off the stairs. She leaned in, listening and—yes, no, she could _definitely _hear low, almost whispered voices coming from the room.

She closed her eyes and sent a quick prayer to the heavens: _Please, please let them be human. Please let them be alive. Please don't let it be a creepy, undead little girl_. All of her years of watching horror movies had trained her well in the horrors that could be speaking beyond the door.

Holding her breath, she slowly inched towards the door, hardly daring to take in the lightest of breaths. She leaned close to the door, closed her eyes, and listened. The voices were low murmurs, whispers, but she could make out bits and pieces of them.

"…almost in motion…"

"…sure?"

"Yes, I…"

A deep pause, and then—

"I have been planning this ever since she died…"

"…some respect."

There came the sound of someone spitting, as if in anger.

"They'll earn my respect…I am king!"

"…not be hasty…"

Another slow pause, and then—

"The poison is ready?"

"Aye…any night now…"

"Like a striking snake…" A low, muffled laughter and then, "…will ever know! Completely unsuspected!"

"No one will ever again…challenge the House of Add…"

"For my…to see the streets run red with blood."

"And you will. Royal blood."

Hennessy's heart was pounding so loudly she was afraid the people in the room could hear it. She didn't want to believe it—she couldn't believe this was happening—but it sounded like she had just stumbled across a plot to kill the Allfather—and possibly other royals… She burned with the urge to slam the door open and shout, "You've been found out!" but knew that these people would probably silence her permanently in a second. So she quickly began to descend, wincing with every step because to her, they echoed like shots from a gun. She went as quietly as she could, holding her breath, but in her haste, she slipped down the last few steps and let out a hiss of pain. And then she held her breath, her mouth tasting like pennies. She waited, but no one came rushing down after her to chop her head off, so she opened the painting quietly, slid out, shut the painting, and then she backed away from the corridor, keeping an eye on the shut painting.

Only when she was out of the corridor did she first look around to mark where she had found it—and then she turned and ran, sprinting as fast as she could to her room in her flats and dress, slipping around corners in her haste and stunned fear. What had she stupidly stumbled into? Her hammered with every stride, as if to remind her how vital her life energy was—and how easy it would be to silence it.


End file.
